The weather these past few days has been intoxicatingly (is that a word?) awesome. I use the word intoxicating because it more or less has the same effect on me as a bender of an evening in regards to work. "Are you kidding me? Do I really have to go?"

Although it's safe to say that it doesn't take much to find me unhappy about going to work these days. I do the same thing every day, give or take maybe one or two things. When I was told there would be a lot of variety in this job, I really didn't think it was going to be the shuffling of a few meaningless things. The only thing I do that's not machine-like is post bullshit on internet message boards, screw with my fantasy baseball team, and read as much non financial related news as possible.

But back to the weather. It's sunny but brisk. Warm enough for short sleeves, but not without getting a few goosebumps while driving around with the windows open. Throughout my entire youth this is the weather that I've associated with new beginnings. Until age 18 it was a new school year. From 18-23 it was a new apartment, a new year of college, another round of youthful idiocy with my just barely grown up best friends. Even last year, it was the start of this new job. It's a bit discouraging that this amazing weather that I associate most with driving North on the Saw Mill Parkway in New York State on my way to Boston for all kinds of new beginnings has been met this past week with a ridiculous degree of sameness. I'm waking up in the same place, getting on the same bus to sit at my same desk and do the same work and... well, you get the idea. Why the hell do we spend our entire youth looking forward to growing up again?

Despite what the above words might appear to say about my current sentiment, I'm (1) excited to potentially have a new job in the pipeline that would solve a ton of my current issues with life should it work out (I'd say it's 50/50 at this point), (2) planning a November-ish trip to London all by my lonesome. I want to wander down ancient cobblestone streets with a notepad, a camera, and a slight buzz on to try and figure out just what in the hell it is that I'm doing with my life. Makes sense, right? And (3), really getting excited about playing in my new band and writing songs. So it's not all bad, really. I just always want more no matter what... which I hope is a good thing. --

This picture sums up the part of my weekend not explained in my previous post.

I went to JCrew today to buy the comfortable plain white T-Shirts they have. After deducting the little balance from my leftover gift card I would've spent about $6. I somehow walked out of the store with $200 worth of shit and no t-shirts. *

After waking up at 1pm hungover I spent the majority of my day on my deck reading Aaron Cometbus' Double Duce, which I picked up in Baltimore three weeks ago. He's a smart motherfucker. The fact that I haven't read his stuff earlier is a goddamn fucking crime. The sun has made me tired... and even though I've only been awake for 8 hours today, I think it's time to head back to bed. I've got a big bad week of job hating in front of me.

I'm going to try to start writing here again. We'll start with baby steps, though.

My declaration of hate still stands, but I'm doing my best to avoid work at all costs at the moment and I'm out of other things to kill time with.

This is probably the first weekend all summer in which I didn't have a single hamburger. Lots of pasta, pizza. BBQ Chicken once. I think I'm going to have junk food for lunch today. I'm thinking Big Mac. I'm having hamburger withdrawal, apparently.

I felt guilty buying a new TV yesterday, on what was one of the most amazing days of weather we've had this summer here in the muggy mid-atlantic portion of the US. Sadly my hangover just couldn't stand the bright and hot sun, so I wasn't able to enjoy it quite as much as I would've liked to.

I've kicked the smokes for good and my heart is happy about it. Now it's time to to cut down on the booze. No more drinking during the week and less drinking on the weekends.

I'm going to Baltimore intwo weekends from now. That'll be fun. Maybe I'll tell you about it later if I run out of ways to kill time again. --

I've grown to hate this weblog. I've been in denial for about a year and a half regarding how much I loathe it. I am no longer in denial. I hate this weblog.

My, my... where do the days go? I waited so long for the warm weather to return, and now that it's here, it doesn't feel right. Part of me still thinks it's winter. I walk out of the Port Authority every day expecting icy blasts of wind to be rushing down 8th ave. I reach for my scarf before realizing that bitch named winter is in hibernation. My pal spring opted out this year and gave up all weather duties to summer, sans a few wonderful days last week. Summer's no bitch, but he can often be a son of a bitch when he wants to. Especially on days in which I'm not allowed to enjoy his company in a leisurely way. I digress. The point I'm making is that I rarely know what time it is. What day of the week it is... and that my brain can simultaneously believe that February seemed like yesterday and ages ago. The weeks seem to fly by after the fact, but when I'm stuck in them they feel endless. I rarely sleep. I often drink. I do lots of work during the day but probably couldn't recite what I'd done with my day come night time. Someday, I hope to catch up on sleep. Someday I'd like to take it easy and not drink as much. Someday I'd like this routine to feel normal and comfortable.. rather than temporary and miserable.

I actually had a blast this weekend. I thought I was taking cool pictures with my cell phone at the Mitsuko / Ergs! / Arcade Academy, etc. show on Saturday night.. but they turned out to be drunkenly stupid. You can see them here:
www.flickr.com/photos/christophermatthew/

Cheers.

i think its about time i started using flickr so i did.

you can access my flikr page here

Doctor Frank and Ben Weasel did it, so I figured I might as well waste a few minutes at work and put together the same type of quirky random playlist from my iPod. The jist of the game is that you alphabetize your playlist and then pick the first song for every letter. The artist that comes up most often is the "winner". I added an entry for symbols/numbers just to spice it up, but it didn't affect the outcome:

'97 - Alkaline Trio
A-List Actress - Hey Mercedes
b - Lync
C'Mere - Interpol
D4 = Putting The F Back in Art - Dillinger 4
E to W - Appleseed Cast
Fabricoh - Archers of Loaf
Gadget Arms - These Arms are Snakes
Hair ad DNA - Hot Snakes
I'll Be In The Air - The Microphones
Jackie - New Pornographers
K214 - No Knife
La La Love You - The Pixies
M 16 - Descendents
Naive - The Jealous Sound
O'No - Q and Not U
Pacific Theme - Broken Social Scene
Quality Revenge At Last - Hey Mercedes
R U Still In 2 It - Mogwai
Saccharine - Sunday's Best
T.S.R. (This Shit Rules)- Against Me!
U-Mass - The Pixies
Vague Space - Stephen Malkmus
Wait It Out - The Riverdales
X-Polynation - Q and Not U
Y Plus White Girl - Q and Not U
Ziggy Stardust - David Bowie

You'll notice that Q and Not U just barely edge out The Pixies and Hey Mercedes for the victory. Looking at their winning entries coupled with their band name makes it seem like they were almost built for this sort of game... --

Como Esta bitches?

My body physically returned from my memorial day vacation in San Diego Tuesday evening, but there's no question that my mind is still swirling with visions of palm trees, desert cliffs, california fast food joints, and if you'll allow me to be brunt: just barely not naked girls on the beach.

New York has neither palm trees nor cliffs. The fast food joints aren't really even that cheap and are no doubt rat infested... and the girls here are very much not wearing bikinis. I guess I can excuse that, it's not really acceptable to strut your stuff down 5th in a bikini... although there was that one time I saw bikini models doing that promotion in Soho...

See? I told you. The mind is a-swirling and I expect that it'll take me a few days to get it back to the norm: 100% miserable, working 9 hour days, and getting 6 hours of sleep every night.

Cell phone images are here. Digital camera photos will soon follow. **

I will spend the majority of this weekend down in my parents basement with Jimmy and Jeff recording the band's demos. We'll be recording four songs, which I hope to follow up with writing 3 or 4 more rather quickly which will enable us to learn a few covers and hopefully play a few shows thereafter.

We still don't have a name... I'll reluctantly list the two that I can ever remember being considered: The Palisades (geographically appropriate and not too shabby sounding.. although it may imply a more smoother type of sound than we actually have) and The Death of Fun (which accurately describes where the three of us are pretty sure we're at in our lives but might imply that we slaugher baby calves while performing, which is untrue). I figure that no matter what we go with I'll dislike it, feel awkward saying it out loud, etc. But you've gotta buck up sometime.. and I imagine we'll have bucked up within the next few days. --

I haven't looked at or even thought about in.circles in a few weeks. Strange that when I finally bring it up to blog on my lunch hour Paul has just recently chimed in. I hope everyone's monitor resolution is high enough that I'm not forcing his entry completely out of your screen, as his images of fire embody all of the excitement that our little (big) hometown has to offer - especially the last one in the list. **

So how are we all living? Good? Good. **

Wired News' updates for today were particularly entertaining as it reviews Episode III and gives us a tongue in cheek quick-shot about the new Sony and Microsoft consoles. In my former life I would've probably taken off from work, printed out these news bits, and rolled around in the grass naked with my printed pages rubbing against my naughtier parts while eating buffalo wings. But these days, I'm just not excited about those things. I cringe at spending $500 on the launch day of a new console, know I won't have enough time to play it anyway, and cringe yet again when thinking about the raping of my fond childhood Star Wars memories by Episodes I and II (although I will still most definitely be there on opening weekend). -- My mind's clearly in the gutter, so let me move on. **

The band! Last we spoke we had a song or two and didn't have a name. Well, now we have a song or five and still don't have a name. But there's progress!: We play tighter each and every practice and every new song seems to be a bit better than the one before it. And plans!: recording 4/5 demos the first week of June and doing our best to perform a 6 song original / 2 song cover set to actual human beings a bit later in June. I'm hopeful we'll hit both of our goals - and from the limited feedback I've gotten from the few outsiders I've given a glimpse of our tunes, pretty hopeful that at least a few people might dig 'em. **

So here's to Summer. Or Spring. Or it's almost summer but barely feels like spring. Or whatever. Here's to something. --

hey. things are good with us. i was on alps yesterday at petes and a fire broke out at the florist next to his house. there was a huge turnout. i guess all the houses in the vicinity lost power as a result and people lined the streets. weird thing was it had the feel of a parade, the whole thing. wayne churned out like all their rescue vehicles sans the 6x6, which is the swamper for the floods. i didnt get many good shots, but i got shots none-the-less. enjoy

http://img175.echo.cx/my.php?image=fire4ey.jpg
http://img130.echo.cx/my.php?image=fire21ra.jpg
http://img130.echo.cx/my.php?image=fire39jj.jpg
http://img130.echo.cx/my.php?image=fire43pi.jpg
http://img130.echo.cx/my.php?image=fire61ng.jpg

http://www.duelinfiremen.com/movies/duelinfiremen_divx.avi

Rather than re-type it and try to put it in Blog context, I'll just cut and paste my little story from Friday night exactly how I sent it to a friend via email:

" Brad and I were leaning against the bar and this 50+ year old guy with a thick (slurred) irish accent wearing a pinstriped suit came up to us and asked us if we knew how to get downstairs. The bar had no downstairs. I said "are you looking for the bathroom? That's in the back, but I don't think there's a downstairs." He mumbled a couple of other things and then walked away, so Brad and I went back to talking. Then all of a sudden he walks back over to us and starts choking Brad and I ate the same time.. one of us with each hand. Brad knocked him backwards and then all of a sudden a bartender's hand was grabbing at me yelling that I was getting thrown out. Everyone around us started telling him that we didn't do anything, so they let me go. Five minutes later another Irish guy came over to us and said "i'm sorry about my friend... he's been drinking since 6 o'clock and is pretty drunk. he's fought in three wars.. He's also a delegate (or maybe he said diplomat) in the UN... so if they let him back in here - which they will - you might just want to stay out of his way."

He actually did come back in. But he didn't even remember what happened. And I was having too much fun at that point to care. "

Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction... --

Just about every credible video game news outlet has been running pieces in the same vein as this slashdot thread these past few months. To be honest, I think it's absurd to think that the entire games indsutry is doomed to games with cadrillion dollar budgets, celebrity voice overs, and the same ole same ole just because historically new hardware and the eye candy that comes with it has been the primary growth driver. It seems like a no brainer to me, really... wait it out folks. It's still a young industry in terms of traditional arts/entertainment. There will be people demanding innovation and there will be innovative people meeeting that demand.

For every lame summer blockbuster there's a film like Sideways. For every Britney Spears there's a Stephen Malkmus. I expect the games industry to follow suit... eventually. **

Ranch 1 really is the greatest grilled chicken on earth. Well, at least if by Earth they mean the fast food industry.... regardless, delicious. --

I went to Boston last weekend. Aside from one very quick trip up there a few months back it's the first time I've spent a significant amount of time there in awhile. Towards the end of my time there as a student I was starting to become irritated with it and became incredibly excited to head back home. While I'm content here living in Jersey and working in New York for now, there's no question that I've grown to feel more comfortable in Boston than where I grew up. **

I downloaded the new Nine Inch Nails album, [With_Teeth] to listen to on the ride up there and I'm not so sure I was very pleased with what I heard. Perhaps it was the fact that it was pouring rain while I was listening and I was focusing on the road... or the fact that I was listening to it via my fuzzy iTrip... but it just sounded a bit thin to me.

I'll give it a shot with headphones during my commute home from work today, but in all likelihood I'll be passed out by the end of the first track due to my combined 8 hours of sleep for the entire goddamned weekend. I'm reaching new heights (or depths) in tiredness. For real, this shit is avant-garde. --

According to this article, if you're happy, you're healthy. It later offers up religion as its sole source of scientifically verifiable happiness, while (correctly) indicating that other sources of happiness are unique from person to person and far more elusive. So unless you're prepared to take the plunge into the land of naivety and insanity... the world at large best be prepared to find happiness in a much tougher way, or face the consequences of our unhappy bodies. **

Found a leaked copy of the new Stephen Malkmus album last night.. and I'm pretty darn happy with what I've heard so far. I was dozing in and out of sleep while listening this morning, but I heard the first and ninth tracks in their entireties and couldn't help but be reminded of older Pavement stuff. Pig Lib never did much for me, so it's nice to be pleasantly surprised with Face The Truth. --

Too much booze, too little sleep, and too much coffee has made my heart skittish. And I don't mean in a metaphorical way in which I'm using the word heart to describe the status of my personal life or even mental well being. I mean the beating thing in my chest that makes the blood course through my veins and whatnot. I've always had a slightly irregular heartbeat... but these past few weeks it's gotten a bit creepy. If you listen closely the shit sounds like some experimental trip-hop beat or something. I think I'll try to get more sleep. And maybe drink less coffee. Maybe. **

Been listening to the new Despistado a lot. Not great, but pretty damn good.

Rented Sideways last night. Very good except for the fact that midway through my Playstation 2 decided to stop working... leading me to tinker with wires for about 30 minutes before it inexplicably started playing again. Whatever. Saw Sin City Friday night. The white blood looks like cool whip and I love cool whip. Even the low-fat kind.

A few days late on this one, but I'd have to agree with this chick's review of the song "The Engine Driver" off The Decemberist's Picaresque. It harkens back to the days when people were pegging The D's as being the next Neutral Milk Hotel and shows how moving they could be if they downplayed the showmanship just the teeniest bit. I think Picaresque is a huge step in the right direction, way moreso than Her Majesty was and hope that this tune is a sign of things to come. **

Similar to just about every NY Post sports columnist... I think anyone that took to their feet and saw fit to boo Mariano Rivera yesterday should seriously re-evaluate their lives. It was game three of the first series of the season! It's essentially worthless in almost every regard other than in fueling the overhyped "rivalry"! And you do what? Boo the man that you owe just about all of your Yankee pride to over the past ten years? He's 35! He just got over Bursitis! You should die! Seriously.

Seiously, it's the fucking weather, man. It's very apparent that it's not just something I like to say to cheer myself up anymore.

There was this obsessive compulsive rich kid that lived down the hall from me my freshman year of college that used to have this weird-ass fluorescent light fixture at the foot of his bed. He'd stare into the fucking thing for 15 minutes every morning because he claimed to have some crazy condition in which lack of sunlight made him severely depressed. But he was so petrified of cancer that he had to avoid the real sun at all costs. He wore lots of black and was as pale as a goddamned vampire. At any rate, I never took him or his condition seriously.. because it was way more fun to tell him you had just finished whacking off and watch him cower away from you anytime your hands came within three feet of him.. but maybe there's more to it. It just can't be a coincidence anymore. **

May I cut in?

We need a band name. Not immediately, but sooner rather than later. I think it will help me envision the band we have going on being an actual thing that actually exists in time and space instead of this sorta non-designatable "thing" that "we've got going on". We've started out slow just kicking around a few songs... but last week things really started to solidify. I think we all compliment each other well and can create some pretty cool sounding stuff together. I know I should've learned by now to shut the fuck up about something when I get excited about it, as my words have pretty always come back to bite me in the ass... but I'm thinking that this is something beyond that. Something that's been slowly taking shape in my head for years that I'm not willing to fuck up. Most of the things that end up biting me in the ass are passing type things anyway, this is something that's been stewing inside me since I was a kid. And I'm happy to be doing it with the people I'm doing it with. **

These past few years my winter's have been incredibly cold. Filled with lots of bitterness and a lot of lousy things happening to me. Thankfully, these winters have historically been followed by warm springs with all of the wrongs becoming rights and all of the lousiness turning into luck and well being. I'm starting to think that the tides have turned, but that this time it's for the worst. It's just in the air... something I can feel. I hope that I'm wrong.. because I know the more I believe it the more that my own lousy self-fulfilling prophecy will kick into effect. So if you see me in a rut... Buy me a beer. Tell me to get over myself. It'll help, I promise.

No one has fooled me yet today.

However, it's worth nothing that today's Penny Arcade comic proved to be quite amusing. I do believe that the PA boys have hit a naztee stride once again, after what I thought were a few months of dissappointing comics. Or maybe it's a strut. Yeah, I think it's more like a strut. **

I just paid $9.33 for a medium chedder broccoli soup and an 11.6 oz. bottle of Ginger Ale. F Manhattan! --

Saturday night I dreamt that I was in Florida on the spring training squad for The Yankees. I was hoping to make the roster and have this season be my rookie year. Joe Torre started me at 2nd base and I immediatly made two errors in one inning. The third time the ball was hit to me Derek Jeter sprinted over and made an amazing catch, clearly trying to ensure that my errors did not continue. In between innings Torre and Mattingly talked to me about calming down and just playing instead of worrying about it. I stepped up to bat as the lead-off and was walked. I instantly stole 2nd base. I'm not sure if I made the team, but I remember thinking that I had finally calmed down and was ready to play for real.

Last night I dreamt that I was walking on some anonymous boardwalk somewhere in Jersey and stumbled upon a bandstand. Jughead from Screeching Weasel's new-ish band Even In Blackouts was playing. I've never heard them before. There were lots of aging punk rockers there looking to have their guitars signed and a huge sign near the merch table that said you had to buy your merch no later than the ending of the fourth song. I left the stage area to head "home", which ended up being a walk on the beach similar to a dream I've had many times.. where I'm am walking slowly home along the beach. This walk home has occured in Jersey, Manhattan (no beaches), and Las Vegas (also no beaches). I'm always by myself, heading home sorta bored/dejected, and seeing lots of other people having fun. I have no idea.

I know that I had a fairly vivid dream on Sunday night, too... but I can't remember the details right now. *

My PSP and I are getting married. Details to follow. --

Tracked down two leaked releases over the weekend...

Alkaline Trio's Crimson and Hot Hot Heat's Elevator. After one listen I've decided that the Alkaline Trio record isn't worth the bandwidth I used up downloading it. I didn't really expect any different, though.. so it's not like I'm dissappointed.

The single from Elevator, "Goodbye, Goodbye" led me to believe that the HHH record would be a lot more of the same sort of stuff that was on Make Up The Breakdown. However, the spastic rhythms and dancy feel has been traded in for more polished tunes that border on classic rock meets funk. It's definitely not as fun, but still very decent. I'm hoping that repeat listens will provide hidden treasure chests filled with staying power.

While I'm on the subject of records released in 2005 I've also spent some time listening to the new M83, Decemberists, and Crooked Fingers, with varying degrees of likeability. In order: M83 (which most definitely unveils treasure chests with said staying power), Decemberists, and Crooked Fingers. **

It looks like my commutes, at least for the short-term future, will be filled with PSP-time, rather than iPod time.. so I expect my musical ramblings will be temporarily replaced with rambling about making colored boxes line up and racing imaginary hover crafts affixed with lasers really fast around a track.

Since I've lost all of the eloquence I'd like to believe I once had whilist writing, take Tycho from Penny Arcade's words about the PSP instead:

If you want to know whether or not the Playstation Portable is good, it's a topic beyond debate. It isn't "good." It's important.

We have a relationship to the future that is odd, in that we are constantly trying to create the preconditions for events we expect to happen. We collaborate with linear time to engineer outcomes. There are, however, coordinates in this progression which serve as milestones of a sort: points we can refer to and declare as evidence of forward momentum. Holding the device made it clear. The "future" envisioned by my eight year old self has arrived. Now, we must invent new futures. **

Rainy monday in NYC. Feels strangely refreshing. April showers bring May flowers and hopefully this week will bring my body sobriety. I've been drinking far too much, far too often lately. --

* hap·pi·ness(n): a state of well-being and contentment
* un·hap·py(adj): not cheerful or glad

I lasted less than 48 hours. My PSP is fully charged and I'm ready to welcome Wipeout Pure and Lumines to my morning commute. --

I didn't buy a PSP today. While I stand by my "adult" and "responsible" decision for not being an early adopter of a new video game system for the first time well, ever... I'm very jealous of everyone else in the world that has one. Lumines just looks too damn good to keep me away for much longer. I give myself until memorial day before I've got one in my clutches.*

Last night I dreamt that Bill Murray killed himself and nobody cared. *

You can watch a video of The Hand That Feeds on NIN.com, if you'd like. I say "a" video and not "the" video, because I'm not 100% sure that this is going to be the final version. It looks like they more or less filmed a live band performing the song in their practice space. While that's not usually up to Trent's standards, perhaps he's come to terms with the fact that there's not much room in the world of music for videos from rock bands? Ya know, no bling-bling or booties shakin'...

I kinda dig the song, though. He changes his vocal melody at the end into something that sounds unintentionally bad... but it's at least left me curious about hearing the rest of the record. *

Since today is shaping up to be a lazy Saturday filled with missing day's past, let's play the "What was Chris doing on (or around) this date years back?" game. From ye blogges of olde:

3.6.00: I somehow managed to sleep for roughly 14.5 hours last night... i don't think i have ever done this before. At around 9:30PM i hopped onto my bed to relax and watch TV. The next thing i remember is waking up in my clothes and looking at my clock and seeing 1:30 AM. I quickly changed into my pajama's, washed my face and hopped into bed. In what seemed like only minutes, my alarm went off for 12:00 noon. I honestly have no idea how i managed to so this...i had a nice, sober sleep the day before, and didn't do a goddamn active thing all day.

3.24.01: Winter seems to be fading, as well as the bitterness that so often embodies that ever-lagging season. My bones are warm and my bedroom is clean. This weekend has been a mixed bag of all things good. My roomate was gone for the weekend so there was privacy, which was incredible. Everything is A-Alright!

3.25.02: All this week I will be blessed with visitors from the fine town of Wayne, New Jersey. My apartment will be their makeshift motel for the week, while I sit at work and well... sit at work. I will live vicariously through their daily adventures as they re-tell them to me in the evenings. They arrived early yesterday, and without much delay, bottles of Bud Light were being emptied left and right in a fairly speedy fashion. When the fridge ran dry, we walked over to Chili's (why aren't any REAL bars open on Sunday's in Georgia?) and proceeded to empty more bottles, shot glasses, and full-sized glasses of a wide array of adult beverages. It was Paul's 21st birthday, after all, which justifies forcing him to drink things with names like "three wise-men", "surfer on acid", and an "el presidente", right?

Before the binge-a-thon began yesterday, I managed to pick up "The Mezzanine" by Nicholson Baker. I've heard it's a sort of "Infinite Jest"-Lite and perfect for the run of the mill obsessive compulsive. Although not quite as much as I when I was younger, I am indeed obsessive-compulsive, and most certainly run of the mill. Flipping through the pages I see footnotes that go on for pages on end... let the insanity begin! I'll let you know how it goes...

2003: Apparently I wasn't updating during March of 2003, although I remember doing so. I was living in Cleveland at the time.

3.22.04: Last night I dreamt that I was record shopping at The Sound Exchange, a record store I grew up frequenting. There were new owners, not the guys that at my tender young age of 13 would correctly insist that I'd be better off picking up records by Pop Will Eat Itself, Pigface, and Fugazi instead of whatever other crap I was probably buying at the time. I went to the register to pick up my copy of the Iron & Wine album and had an altercation with the gentleman ringing me up about the amount I gave him, the cost of the album, and the disparity between them and the amount of change he gave me.. I ended up leaving the store without the album, claiming that I would never listen to music ever again.

Sorry, I just wanted to see if that dream was just as fucking stupid written down as it was in my head. Turns out it was. *

Yesterday I drank my balls off. I'm talking non-stop from like 10:30AM until about 7 at night. I suppose that's par for the course in South Boston on the day of their big St Patty's parade... however, the fact that I was on the clock made it quite interesting. Four of us were DJing a bar on the parade route. The initial gig-time was 12-2, but the owner offered us $250 cash, on top of our (shitty) hourly wage if we stayed until 5. As much as I get annoyed with my part-time job for eating away at my precious and few college weekends... playing rock music for five hours, getting shitey with a bunch of Irish cops for free, and making about $200 ain't a half-bad way to spend a Sunday. *

--
Longest.Post.Ever.

Thirteen things that do not make sense, from The New Scientist via Slashdot. A pretty interesting read that'll make the sci-fi geek in all of us excited about the prospect of people smarter than us figuring out things that we don't really understand.

The fourteenth thing that doesn't make sense is how I'm still living and breathing after this weeks (mis)treatment of my body. I Haven't slept more than 5 hours any night this week and I've been at least a little bit intoxicated upon falling asleep three times. I don't think I'll be ready for another St. Patrick's Day until next year. --

Last night I took part in my first ever fantasy baseball draft. The chaps in my league were all seasoned-pros, which left me a bit uneasy about the whole thing. I went looking for advice from a few sources, but I found a lot of contradictory stuff, so I just decided to go with my gut and a little pre-planning. I don't know how much the pre-planning helped, but my team(for now, at least) is as follows:

Hitters
J. Lopez - (Bal - C)
C. Delgado(Fla - 1B) 
M. Loretta(SD - 2B) 
A. Ramirez(ChC - 3B) 
O. Cabrera(LAA - SS) 
G. Sheffield(NYY - OF) 
C. Jones(Atl - 3B,OF)
M. Alou(SF - OF)
S. Finley(LAA - OF)
T. Hafner(Cle - 1B)
R. Hernandez(SD - C)
A. Jones(Atl - OF) 

Pitchers
J. Santana(Min - SP)
M. Mussina(NYY - SP) 
J. Nathan(Min - RP)
E. Guardado(Sea - RP) 
C. Carpenter(StL - SP)
T. Glavine(NYM - SP) 
C. Cordero(Was - RP) 
F. Garcia(CWS - SP) 

My hitters are probably a perfect sampling of some of the slowest guys in Major League Baseball, so I don't expect to be winning, or even to be able to compete for stolen bases points. Aside from that the team is pretty well-rounded, though.. so hopefully I'll be competitive. If not, I can chalk it up to experience and cry about the $100 I spent in October. **

Been listening to the new M83 and Crooked Fingers a lot. Going to see the amazing Thermals next Tuesday, which I couldn't be more excited about. *

It's St. Patty's, time to get my drink on. Cheers. --

i went to the botanical gardens in the bronx the other day, i have here pictures from that trip...

its times like this i wish i had a better camera. i only post a select few out of all the ones i took.

let me tell you, as you can see by my last post, my state of mind has been with the foliage lately. this little excursion let me get some quality time with my buddies. dont call me crazy when i tell you that these guys spoke to me. hopefully you can see that by the pics, they are truly my pals.

here

I don't know if any of you read the comments, so I thought I would post this link that Joe had left out into the forefront here. It's a video of Ted Leo covering Kelly Clarkson's "Since You've Been Gone"... complete with a bridge consisting of The Yeah, Yeah, Yeah's "Maps". Fucking weird. He actually almost tricked me into liking the song for a minute or two, though. **

I enjoy it when Paul updates, too. He lulls you into these periods of non-updating.. just to the point where you've almost forgotten that he has the ability to write nonsense here on the blog. And then, just at the cusp of your mind forgetting all about his words, he treats you to line after line of genuine insanity. His methods of delivery are exceptional and for that I am grateful.

This is similar to a discussion I had with a mutual friend of ours last night. We were discussing Paul's punctuality and/or attendance at social events. The short of it is that you never really know for sure if he's going to show up. If he doesn't, it doesn't really bother you at all. It's understood. But if he does, you actually become genuinely happy. Consistency doesn't allow for that kind of thing. And for that, we were both grateful. --

I am incredibly hungover this morning. Time to brew up a pot 'o coffee.

wiping the chalk off his hands.. "well that is the nature of the beast."
"certainly is, and i would assume it wise not to tangle."
"well sir, if i may, great minds have said that in order to realize you should get your hands dirty."
"hahaha"
"hahaaha"
CHUCKLE HAHAHHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHGahahhahahfhahhhhga

weel ok sure whatever why not.

well since there are new sources for just about everything and no sources for just about anyone, you see what happens.

most people wouldnt just stomp up to the desk like that and resign. well you do just resign sometimes, in thought and in theory.

i kno, know. but let me tell you this. there was a little gnome. he was constantly looking for something to idle and wile his time away. most of the time, however, he would pick different botanicals, grass blue green hood, other paraphrenalia. most of all if it was something out of the ordinary round his hut he would take a dirt sample too. when his collection grew impressive and he studied the growth of the various plants and the soil they were growing in, he carefully planned a stew. purely veggies.

the night he consumed his tea/stew, the neighbors heard awful sounds from his hut. crashing thrashing and herbal pot fasting. the next day the gnome emerged no worse for wear but his neighbors were worried. he collected the eggs now, the seeds of the various plants, their births. he studied the dimensions of the seeds, the nature in which they embedded themselves after leaving the proverbial womb.

then, as sure as sugar, he cooked up the seeds, a careful selection. no noises this nite. the fucker died. he was poisoned by some mother fucker that brokeinto his hut and tampered with his seeds. they left his body where it was cause everyone agreed on poisoning the bastard. diane julie beth susan jenifer donna gertrude genevive all those bitches wanted him dead. they just left him there. time passed and all that shit he grew sprouted. no shit, good compost. turned out some even grew from him. but that shits funny. just eating berrys and fruits and leaves and shit and people get all suspicious. so as kites fly these days, people muse and puruse and enjoy the dance of the gods in those light hearted paper doilies. shrugging away. strap a cat to the fucker and it wont fly. but billy the bad blooded cat. that mother fucker flew.

one day a bunch of kids were in the alley, knocking the cobbles like a xylophone. rocking out music with crude instruments and crude haircuts. sky above cobbles below. enter x, the cat. thing is the cat was schizophrenic. it would recline in the branches of a tree and treat it as an entity of animation and soul. the limbs speaking a language all their own which the cat abruptly learned. as the tree aged and the rings in the trunk spelled out the destiny of souls everywhere the cat was the only one privy to the secrets behest.

im just really bored and havent updated in a while. i apologize.

but really folks. im an uncle. my sister had a little girl. very cute indeed. i bought her an ipod mini and loaded it up with some hits. she listens. mostly white hassle, echo and the bunny men and select recorded shamanic rituals in flac format. ive read some carlos castaneda, and i just finished a book, the psychology of kundalini yoga. it really is an awesome book. i enjoyed it alot and tried to make it a part of me. but even at a hundred or so pages it is fucking dense. i dont think ill fully get it all even after 20 reads. but there are certain people i want to read it and no one here is one of them. so why bother. been doing crosswords, took me forever to figure out that what makes later days in the week difficult is not the nature of the words but just the distant way they clue you into them 32 across is lexicon topic. on monday that answer is always words. you get that shit on thursday and its something like usage. just very roundabout.1 down, route revealers.. maps. you get it. already im tired of this. i sub at the highschool on a fairly regular basis and its probably not doing me any good. im not doing me any good. im stuck. chris seems to be a sport tho. i like reading his updates and im glad he does. i appreciate the energy. movies, songs from teh second floor, i saw it. i like it, its subtitled in swedish and all, and even tho its a little over the top, there are some scenes that really rock your socks. notorize it.

Tonight I put on The Promise Ring's Nothing Feels Good. A record I remember thinking was so refreshing and so novel at it's time of release. Tonight, perhaps fittingly, it didn't make me feel good. It made me feel old. Perhaps things that I thought were fun or interesting in 1997 don't quite translate to 2005. *

As I was told tonight in a completely random instant message from a complete stranger...

"for student exchange kyoto university"

I don't know what teh fuck that means. *

Nothing feels good like you in....

Dear M.F.er who stole the $18 out of my wallet at the gym,

I hope you stole that $18 out of my wallet for drugs. And I hope that when you go buy those drugs you get yourself into a sticky situation, have the money stolen from you, and get a nice proper reaming of your arse. And then get arrested, end up in jail, and have many more years of proper arse reamings.

With Love,

Chris

At least they didn't take my credit cards. I guess I put too much faith in the fact that I was going to a fairly expensive gym in a nice neighborhood. Looks like I need to pick up a lock. Aside from the theft thing, running and lifting weights has thus far left me fairly sore but feeling very happy. *

So, after a brief delay the band that we've put together is back on its feet. This lineup has only had one practice, but I think it went quite well. We upgraded from standard 12 oz. Bud bottles to the long neck Bud 16 ozers, which might have helped things along. Perhaps next week we'll give 40's a try? All in the name of bettering ourselves, of course. The current batch of songs I've worked up are in the same vein as bands like Superchunk, Beezewax, The Posies, and Starmarket tinged with a little bit of that pop-punk goodness from bands like Sicko and Cub. So I guess you could file us alongside power-pop bands, but you might be inclined to just throw us in the cluster-f file labeled indie. With any luck we'll be seeing you at shows, or at an AA meeting within two months time. What better time than the beginning of spring to unveil your new band? Exactly. --

Sorry it's been so quiet on los bloggos front. I've been busy trying to learn how to be happy with this being an adult thing. The first thing I'm trying to nix is my after-work computer use. It was pretty depressing when I realized that I'd been spending most of my free time the same way I spend it at work, hunched in front of an LCD screen. So I'm doing my best to ensure that my evenings are spent doing something physical, at band practice, or at least doing enjoyable things with enjoyable people.

Besides, the blog has always been best when I update from work.. and once I get a handle on my newish job I hope to keep this site up as part of my daily routine.*

I was looking through the Wayback Machine Internet Archive and found a very old version of in.circles present. You can find it here. That was the second incarnation of in.circles you see. Spanning my sophomore through middler (Northeastern speak for the third of five years) years. The first version of in.circles consisted of material from Ryan, Imri, and myself, mostly from my freshman year of college. The third version featured Paul and myself with rare updates by both, spanning from the summer of my middler year through the following summer. And the fourth is what you're reading right now. It features mostly me, sometimes Paul, and Jimmy once. It's Spanned from the summer of my junior year until right now. [end pointless tangent] --

Ben Weasel has the nerve to criticize Hunter Thompson for "playing up the cartoonish aspects of his persona" while also claiming that his artistic output "went from medicore and lifeless, to slightly embarrassing, to painful..."

This, coming from a guy who intentionally placed a cartoon image of himself on nearly half of his recorded albums and has issued a handful of lifeless, less than mediocre, or just painful albums in his day. I brought up Ben's "obituary" to Paul who responded, "sometimes a persons harshest criticisms are their greatest insecurities." I think he nailed it right on the head.

I think that Pitchfork did a much better, and classier job. **

Speaking of hype, I am enjoying the hell out of Bloc Party's Silent Alarm. **

Happy Birthday to me. I'm 24. But I feel like 23 1/2. --

I feel guilty posting here above paul when it comes to speaking of Mr. Thompson. Everything I learned about the man came through Paul. But I loved everything about the man. Never ceased to make me smile. Never ceased to say something that didn't teach me how to live life a little bit different. HST gave me a hero in a time when there are no heroes. I am thankful to have lived in a time in which he did.

"I always felt like I was born in defeat. And I may have written everything I've written just to win back a victory. My life may be pure revenge."

"There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die."

RIP.

hst uber alles



worst loss ive suffered.

When I arrived home last night there was a monster sized package on my doorstep. I knew instantly that it was my air purifier... and was instantly annoyed with the size of the thing. Now, I know that this site clearly labels the dimensions of the unit... but the image on that page as well as the very misleading images on this page led me to believe that I would be able to safely stow this sucker behind a chair or in an out of the way nook and have it invisibly whisp away all of the dust, allergies, and other bad stuff that's been keeping me up all night. Not even close! This thing is big enough to be a chair. I'm considering getting rid of my night stand and just using the Whispure to hold my overnight items... or maybe I'll even hock my computer desk and replace it with this breathing machine. However, there was a significant improvement in the air quality in my bedroom last night.. which despite it's ginormous appearance, is exactly what I bought it for. *

I was re-reading some of my older blogs last night and noticed that any sense of excitement or optimism in my words is completely gone these days. As much as this blog is nothing more than just a pot for my brain to puke in every once in awhile, reading last year's entries has very much confirmed how blah I feel about everything right now. It's been nine months since I graduated college and moved back home... and I still long for living the life I did before graduation every day. I would've figured that the amount of time to conceive, carry, and deliver a child would've been more than enough to accept my post-graduation predicament... but apparently, there have been some complications. I don't really have a solution... so empty whining will have to suffice for now. I'm banking on warm weather aiding my cause... and days off from work. Often. --

God Don't Make No Trash or Up Your Ass With Broken Glass. Five tracks from The Falcon, a band that is 1/2 Lawrence Arms, 1/4 Alkaline Trio, and 1/4 Anti-Flag. $6+ shipping for a short EP was kind of a bummer... but worth it considering it was virtually impossible to find on ye olde interweb. *

I'm still battling off the remnants of what has become the cold that won't go away. It's like two steps forward and one step back with this thing... and then every once in awhile 27 steps backwards. Winter's lame. Bring on the warmth and short sleeves. --

hay hay hay

ive been fishing for music in the lossless boneless section of newsgroups.

i finished that rushdie book and i have to say rushdie is one of my favorite writers. that book was great. especially at this point in time. i realize now that it may not be that the books i read are good at the time i read them, i just apply my current thought, et cetera.

but hay, end of world time

one

two

My research concludes that (drumroll) the ionic breeze is a waste of money. I read two separate Consumer Reports articles that tested it. The first time C.R. tested it for short-term effectiveness and found it basically worthless. Sharper Image, who makes it, responded and said their testing wasn't suited to their product. So Consumer Reports did another test on it and concluded the same thing.. it doesn't actually improve breathing conditions or remove anything harmful from the air. All it does is emit ozone, which essentially tricks people into thinking the air is cleaner because it smells different (and not always better). They essentially say that the whole "ionic" thing is just a fad, and that in most cases ends up taking dust from the air, doubling it in size with ion particles, which makes it heavy and fall to surfaces like beds, couches, carpets, etc.

They gave the highest rating to The Whispure filters from Whirlpool. I ordered the strongest one today for $299... significantly cheaper than the $500 Ionic Breeze.

All said, I paid $200 less for a product that an impartial consumer publication says works very well and I don't have to have a big noisy phallic thinga-ma-doo-hicky in the corner of my bedroom... so all is well in the world. *

I had band practice last night. That's right, you heard me correctly, band practice. It's been about 5 years in the making (no joke) but myself and two other individuals whom I couldn't imagine not being in a band with got together and played some rock-n-roll last night. I had a blast and I'm pretty sure they had a good time, too. It went well enough that it seems as if practice will become a weekly event.. and hopefully things like recording and playing shows happening not too far down the road. Get ready to be (pop) rocked. 1,2,3,4! --

Does anyone know anything about Ionic Air Purifiers? Or any kind of air purifiers at all? Having a basement "apartment" has taken a serious toll on my breathing... it's to the point now where I wake up more or less every night gasping for breath. On saturday I opened my blinds to let the sun shine through the windows and was astounded by how much dust I saw fluttering through the sunshine. For someone with allergies as terrible as mine, I figure investing a couple hundred bucks into one of these miracle machines is a no brainer. However, the Internet is a mysterious place sometimes and I haven't been able to find anything credible as evidence to pick up one machine over another. Consumer Reports wrote an article back in October 2003.. but I figure new products have come along since then...

Any ideas?

Ben Weasel offers up a fairly lengthy blog over at Weasel Manor today. It'd been awhile since I heard anything out of him that didn't have to do with his NHL sim league... and while the indication is that he will continue being sporadic with updates, I enjoyed a little bit of Weasel in my day. *

Although I have a new job... I don't quite have a new desk just yet. Seems as if the IT people are rather busy and haven't been able to set up my new git up, so to speak. So I've spent the past two days sitting at my old desk, surrounded by my former co-workers.. with absolutely nothing to do. I think I've read the entire internet. Twice. *

The sun is shining quite bright in New York today. Although the chill is still in the air, there is a definite spring like feeling to it. Now, I know it's too early for an early spring even by the earliest Punxatawny estimates, but it's refreshing to not feel like your eyeballs are going to freeze upon stepping outside.*

I'm working out again. And I'm sore. --

I have not learned anything of value since May 5th, 2004, which was the approximate due date for the last of my undergrad assignments. I've worked one job for five months, tackled a two month internship prior to that, and do not feel I have learned anything memorable, anything that's made me feel more intelligent, or anything that's given me a sense of purpose. 8 months is a long time to feel mentally stagnant. During that time I've read books to try and feel stimulated... but without a general undercurrent of learning in my life I feel I've gotten far less from the experiences than usual.

Tomorrow is my last day at the mindless job which has taken away any semblance of intelligence that I thought I once had. Monday starts a new job, with new people, doing new things. There are responsibilities. Things that need to be learned. And while I'm still not 100% sure it's what I want to be working at for my entire life... the idea that I will be learning anything at all at this point is very, very welcome. I miss feeling passionate about life when I wake up in the morning. I miss living and breathing to learn and care about everything around me instead of keeping my gaze firmly set on my shoelaces while I meander around from point(less) A to point(less) B.

So far, being an "adult", at least in the sense that I'm through with college level learning, has been incredibly disappointing and sad. I'm hoping that this Monday is not another step in that same awful direction. *

Two quick other random things...

Firstly, I just received spam, in the form of a text message, sent to my cell
phone. "For a chance to win a free spring break trip..." Are you kidding me? What's next? "Feeling inadequate as a male? Dial 69 Send to find out about our wang enlargement pills.."

Secondly, did I really hear Wes Anderson in an ad for Guitar Center this morning? [terrible rap/metal being blared in the background] "Hi, I'm Wes Anderson. For a chance to win a Gibson guitar, autographed by me, stop by your nearest Guitar Center... and don't forget to see my newest movie, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, playing in theaters now." Has this world truly gone mad? --

PC Update: still not fixed. Not that anyone cares but me. (incircles... in 2005 celebrating six straight years of rambling about PC problems that nobody cares about). That's right, I've been doing this since '99.*

What records are people anticipating this new year? The only thing that comes to mind is the new Crooked Fingers, which just so happens to come out one day prior to my birthday. I predict that this will be the year that I further fall out of step with rock music and descend further into the depths of 'aging rock guy that liked all of those bands that played guitars in the Mid-90's'.*

My 24th birthday. The number 24 seems staggering to me. Like at one point in the past someone would've asked me about being 24 and I would've been able to equate it with a time in which cars would be flying, space travel standard, and robot maids being sold in the same department store aisles as common appliances (talking ones, of course). My parents were married and owned a home by the age of 24. This petrifies me. How in the world were people of that generation able to do that at 24? Isn't marriage complicated? What does this say about our generation... are we lazy? Are we smarter? I can count on one hand (two fingers) the guys that I'm friends with that are engaged.. and well, they're both lunatics. So hopefully it means that we're smarter.. or more patient.. and if that's so I guess I can understand why everyone was smoking pot in the 60's... how in the world can you all have been dumber than us? *

Amazing IT guy from work says that my hard drive is tip-top. Bootable, readable, and very secure and stable. I'm clueless... could it be as simple as a bad ribon or power being sent to the drive? I will have to investigate tomorrow on my day off (sorta) from work. *

The "sorta" is because it's a day off to attempt to get my butt back into an IT type role, as I mentioned in a previous post. Wish me luck. (anything at all will help when it comes to my luck) *

I've gotten pretty far into the songwriting process with a batch of songs that I'm really, really excited about. I've recruited two individuals to help me make it happen for real. I'm so obsessed with the progress of the tunes that my desk at work is littered with all kinds of insane notes to myself that pop into my head throughout the day.. "chorus needs to be Bb minor, G, A for two measures!... strummed like that Sicko song off of Chef Boy RU Dum" and "structure = 1X just guitar, 1X with bass and symbol crashes 2x all together, 4x with vocals before kicking into bridge to chorus." Yes, this is all jibber jabber.. but for the past few years I've written a four chord progression and passed it off as a "song". As in, "dude, i've got songs" or "hey babe, i've written dozens of songs". I've just recently really started finishing things the right way and I couldn't be more excited about it. I'm really ready to put my money where my mouth is this time. --

For better or worse... (i'm of the opinion that it leads towards worse) I haven't played videogames all that often lately. However, I have odd memories of experiencing the same sort of feelings that are addressed in this article from back when I did. The most severe case I had was when I was obsessed with creating my own world maps for Duke Nukem 3D. I remember looking around classrooms and my home intently to figure out which vents might be good for secret passageways and whether walls were "real" or "false". I even got so obsessed with looking around my own home that I spent about a month creating a level that was pretty much a replica of my house. Except for the secret passages, false walls, and dozens of dancing cheerleaders that were hidden in my ceiling.

The same goes for when I was rehauling BorisFX.com this time last year.. I was knee deep in Photoshop 7.0 for 10 hours a day and I'd get into bed and start thinking about using filters to change the texture of my ceiling and dying to make it 75% transparent using the layer menu.

I very much need to get into a technology-heavy type job again. I feel like a part of me is missing without it these days. --

Just wanted to thank everyone for the hard drive fixing tips. I've asked the amazing IT guy that covers my floor at work to take a look at my drive and he's going to take a stab at it later this week. At this point I just really want to save the things that are irreplaceable... digital camera photos, projects / papers that I wrote in college. Although 99% of my time is spent listening to music on my computer... losing an MP3 is nothing like losing that amazing digital camera photo I took of my roommates three years ago, etc. etc. Although it's not quite the same situation, when the fire in my apartment had just been put down by firefighters two summers ago and I was told "kid, you've got a about twenty minutes to get the hell in there and grab whatever means something to you"... surpisingly the things I grabbed first were probably worth the least. Aside from my guitars, there was really nothing of any monetary value that I grabbed that first load. Just pictures, important documents... sentimental things. It was warming to have made the right choice so obviously... it was very natural.

I feel kind of silly for not backing the things up that were on my hard drive, when I easily could have duped them onto my 80-gig slave at any point during the past few months, but with any luck I'll end up relatively unscathed just like I did two summer ago on Mission Hill.

It's been wonderful to see posts here that are not my own. *

Today I came home, turned on my PC, only to be greeted with an error message indicating that my two month old 250 gig hard drive had no intentions of booting. I tried a bazillion different things.. and no matter what I did could not find any data on it at all. That's every paper I've written since high school... over 5,000 mp3's, some of which (even in the age of file sharing) will be nearly impossible to replace, and digital photos going back 7 years. None of it was backed up and the thought of losing all of this stuff is seriously choking up. Yes, that's right... a whole bunch of fucking ones and zeroes is almost making me cry. Cheers to two lame cliches of my generation coming together in perfect unison... technology and melancholy.

So, Miss TFL, if you want me to hook you up with some happy pop tunes, keep your fingers crossed that the ace I.T. team I plan to employ on this case can get back those three-chord ditties comprised of ones and zeroes.

For now I'm booting to my older hard drive, which I've been using as a slave.. which for some reason is still bootable to Windows ME. *

The Copyrights, We Didn't Come Here To Die. Find it and listen to it now. Danny Vapid's brother on vocals. Grade A stuff. I also secured myself a copy of the long out of print LP Groovin' Hard by The Crash for $7. Aside from those ones and zeroes, it's been a pretty good week.

oy!

--------------5:46 PM 1/5/2005----------

im listening to bill hicks (amongst other things) today whilst contemplating life. salman just dropped another biscuit on my head, and i researched said biscuit, as i hope to be more inclined to do when biscuits come dropping.

someone went to canada recently, i dont know who this guy is, but he has a funny tale.

seems like everyone is getting sick, whether it be UTI's or the flu or both, time for immuno-shields or something. on an impulse i purchased some astro glide today, large 5 oz bottle. dont know what im gonna do with it but i know i need to own it. cost cutters has been having some weird sale on hockey cards, so i bought 4 boxes. now i have 4 boxes of hockey cards that are worthless. i spent ~100 dollars on these things. its kinda weird to spend money too, especially when you dont have any. definitely a form of coping with depression. i want my goddamn hockey back.

i have so many plans just waiting to take off, but im missing the ingredient one needs for off taking. oh yeah, motivation

pictures from the fray:
boozefire
drunknbusty
goodtimes
gulliver
joshdeadly
pookdome
vistajosh

i have nothing to do except take pictures and crop them with the gimp

ive been reading this book called ground beneath her feet, its really good and i like it. salman rushdie is a wizard. so far its all earthquakes at tequila distilleries and viscous prattling on greek and indian myth. but yeah, its good.

ive been playing a little bit of a game called uru, and its really successful at making me feel ignorant. i also play with my ipod alot, but hate the fact that i cant make an eq preset and have that preset save to my pod.

Today's iPod playlist (thus far):

Dirt Bike Annie - Show Us Your Demons
The Ergs! - Ben Kweller SP
Go Sailor - s-t (discography)
Sicko - A Brief History Of Sicko

Even with new "hip" and unlistened to tunes like the two new Bright Eyes
albums and the (i'm told) awesome Madvillain LP sitting within the caverns
of my massive 40-gig friend, I can't seem to stop listening to tasty bits
of pop-punk fun. The first two were new to me, and very enjoyable (although
I prefer the Ergs! full length) and the bottom two were loved gems that I
haven't listened to in way too long. I think there are two reasons for my
recent pop-punk revival: #1, I'm miserable and hate not being a student
anymore and am desperately searching for happy pop ditties that remind me
of being younger or #2, as I mentioned in my previous post.. all of the
songs I've been writing lately are very much in this vein. Regardless of
the reason.. something about constantly listening to and playing the type
of songs that I spent so many years of my life really enjoying has been
bringing a smile to my face even during the times when I might not have had
a lot to smile about. *

As Promised, my favorite ten albums of 2004 (or something, i guess):

* Ergs! - Dorkrockcorkrod
* Challenger - Give People What They Want in Lethal Doses
* Death From Above 1979 - You're A Woman, I'm a Machine
* Hot Snakes - Audit in Progress
* Thermals - Phuckin' A
* Methadones - Not Economically Viable
* Arcade Fire - Funeral
* Les Savy Fav - Inches
* Iron & Wine - Our Endless Numbered Days
* Detachment Kit - ... Of This Blood

.. honorable mentions to Interpol, Prefuse 73, and Dizee Rascal. *

I'm craving video games again. I need a good RPG to zap up all of my free time
and remind me why I stopped playing them in the first place. Tales Of
Symphonia perhaps?

It's fitting that I end 2004 sick for 10 days straight.

Thinking back, 2004 kinda sucked.

I hope everyone enjoys their new year's.

I'll hit you with my 10 favorite songs and albums of the year soon.

Here's to 2005.

I hope everybody had a wonderul Christmas.  Despite being plagued with the

flu and a few (expected) insane family outbursts it was an enjoyable time

for me.  I ate well and my various Santa Claus' were very good to me. I

also watched Napoleon Dynamite twice (once while drunk) and found it very

much ot my liking.  It was just... nice.  *



The internet is always lousy the week after Christmas.  Every website goes

on vacation.  My workload this week is insanely small and without the likes

of penny arcade, gamespot, etc. digitally enlightening me it's a struggle

to keep my eyes open.  I also left my iPod at a friends house in a hungover

fog last week.  I can typically use my little white earbuds of joy as a way

of stating things along this lines of, "i'm not interested in hearing what

you got your cat for christmas"... but now I'm defenseless and vulnerable.

And still carrying a little bit o' that flu around.



I'd like to thank Paul for updating lately.  I like pictures.  If I had a

digital camera I would take some, too. *



I'm really writing songs again.  Really.  And they sound like 1996 or so.

1996 was a good year.  I got all A's, made the basketball team, and bought

my first guitar.  I'm hoping that these songs will end up being good as

well. *



Cheers.

more pictures for your fancy:
antdawg
hatefu
ilovepeteee
newscarf
nicepants
ohholygod
petesbath
puckolator
puckxmas
tree
vanity2

im sitting here watching punch drunk love thinking to myself this movie is so awesome. im also thinking i should explain the new photos but why. then i also realized i cant remember the books i just read, so ill start with what i recall.

ignorance
this little gem is pretty much all about sex. i liked it thoroughly. as far as i know its about people in exile having some sort of extramarrital affairs. there are some quotes in there about music that id like to put in here but i cant really get them in the dark while trying to be quiet. i will tell you this, its hard being quiet when you can type 90 wpm (86 net).

blood meridian
this little doozer is pretty much all about sex. i liked it through and through. it starts out with a young boy and ends with a kiddy toucher confessing about touching said same boy. but the book really isnt about the shit i said. its about westward expansion in mid 1800's and killing savage indians. this guy was the dude who wrote all the pretty horses, which i thought might have been some sort of gaylord thing. if its anything like this book i bet its nasty cause this thing is so fuckin violent and just straight up good its almost criminal, itll bite your face off. matter of fact its where i got the quote from one of my more recent posts, man loving games and all.

perdido
this book sucks. something happened from when i was reading this book, to when i finished it, to now, that just left me with a bad taste. all enthusiasm initially, now i wish i hadnt read it. alright maybe not, but maybe so i dont really know.

another roadside attraction
i read this a long time ago. tom robbins will always entertain. i know i had intended to write this post with certain books i had read from x to y in mind. this book is outside that realm but certain books that were inside are gone and forgotten. its about a kidnapped jesus corpse ending up in washington state and mushrooms, edible, poisonous, decorative. robbins characters are always sharp. yuh heard

so i saw life aquatic. good stuff. its getting panned at rotten tomatoes which i kind of predicted. watching it i knew it wouldnt be liked. odd, cause i liked the hell out of it. im also so fucking eager to see this movie, ive been eager, and its just unthirsted. someone watch it and tell me its good. the video store i freq. always has it, staring at me, and it just stopped being in. (for good). toys

pictures:
nightsky
muddywater
rockpit
hazywayne
vanity
metal
naughtyme
techno
ptincoming
origamichess

www.armygame.com. *

My kitty just jumped into the blinds.. but the lights were out (it was less dangerous) and I didn't see her. I assumed that it was a burglar. I grabbed an empty wine bottle from the floor and prepared to smash it in the face of my intruder. There was no intruder. Just a damp, wet, slightly warmer than normal December night that I viewed through the sliding glass doors that are the lame entrance to my pseudo-apartment. The bare (bear?) trees looked wonderful. I forgot to notice them changing to orange and vaguely remember them being green. I haven't been very much alive lately. I haven't noticed much. *

I ordered the supercult video. That shit is so '01. But Mary Anne from Vegas is full of shit... and I used to hang out with her and her goddamn North Shore Mass. accent doesn't sound like Vegay to me (baby). She used to go see lame bands like The Get Up Kids and Juliana Theory. I went too... because I thought she was hot. I was 18 and stupid. Aberdeen City, friends since the age of 6 or so are on the soundtrack. Too many personal connections to not order this pornography. Full report later. *

Four hours isn't sleep at all. --

"Men are born for games...

...Nothing else. Every child knows that play is nobler than work. He knows too that the worth or merit of a game is not inherent in the game itself but rather in the value of that which is put at hazard. Games of chance require a wager to have meaning at all. Games of sport involve the skill and strength of the opponents and the humiliation of defeat and the pride of victory are in themselves sufficient stake because they inhere in the worth of the principals and define them. But trial of chance or trial of worth all games aspire to the condition of war for here that which is wagered swallows up game, player, all.
Suppose two men at cards with nothing to wager save their lives. Who has not heard such a tale? A turn of the card. The whole universe for such a player has labored clanking to this moment which will tell if he is to die at that man's hand or that man at his. What more certain validation of a man's worth could there be? This enhancement of the game to its ultimate state admits no argument concerning the notion of fate. The selection of one man over another is a preference absolute and irrevocable and it is a dull man indeed who could reckon so profound a decision without agency or significance either one. In such games as have for their stake the annihilation of the defeated the decisions are quite clear. This man holding this particular arrangement of cards in his hand thereby removed from existence. This is the nature of war, whose stake is at once the game and the authority and the justification. Seen so, war is the truest form of divination. It is the testing of one's will and the will of another within that larger will which because it binds them is therefore forced to select. War is the ultimate game because war is at last a forcing of the unity of existence. War is god...."

A few months ago my mom decided to try to treat herself on her birthday to a pair of tickets to see Saturday Night Live. She was lucky enough to actually get a pair of seats on her actual birthday, which is pretty snazzy. Probably not blogworthy except for the fact that the musical guest was Modest Mouse. Hearing your mom come home and say "Wow, that Mouse band was pretty good. Your aunt and I really like them. Have you ever heard them? Were those pretty girls playing the Moraccas in the band?" So after six years of Mouse adoration, my mom gets to see them live before me. I actually considered suicide for a few minutes when this all occured because I'd temporarily lost all faith in the universe to function in a logical manner. I snapped out of it, however, when I rememberd that I've never really had all that much faith anyway. *

On the suggestion of one time blogger Paul and the likes of Penny Arcade and all of the other loonies I know personally or digitally I picked up Katamari Damacy for the Playstation 2. The game is just straight up fucked up. Read the synopsis on Gamerankings I linked above. If you see it, buy it... it's only $20 and hard to find, I'm told. *

I've made the decision, for all of the right reasons, to keep my short-term post-graduate life right here in Wayne, NJ. My plans for grandoise far-away cities and such have been negated by the fact that there's no better place than this part of the country to begin a career... and the fact that living at home for a bit will allow me to choose a job I want based on how much I like it rather than its short term earnings potential. Besides, I've already lived in some of those other places and have found that once the luster wears off, it's still the same ole BS. So let's hit up the diner on our way down to the shore after a night of clubbing in the city because I'm a bona-fide Jersey-ite again: Disco fries. Well done with gravy on the side please. *

There's also music on the horizon again. This much I can confirm. And no, this time I'm not going to fuck it up. --

6:16AM and the count is currently 254 to 252 but just about everyone is reporting a Bush victory. Kerry's people are adament and dispatching lawyers as expected, but it's not like last time and hopefully won't take as long as last time to be decided.

The last thing I heard before going to sleep last night was that 17% of of voting population were between the ages of 18-29, the much hyped youth vote. Guess what that percentage was in 2000? Yup, 17%. No one seemed to think that the increased in youth vote would be offset by an increased in stubborn conservative grandma's that haven't votes since 1984.

So it holds true. My generation knows how to whine and make a lot of noise. But when push comes to shove are ultimately lazy and dissapointing.

Weak.

Greetings. I hope everyone took a few minutes out of their day to go and vote today. My candidate won my state, which was one those pesky battle ground states... so it feels good to have participated for the first time. Now I just have to hope that the rest of the country follow suit. *

I was finally settling in to my job here in New York. Just about ready to start looking for apartments in Manhattan and begin this supposedly wonderful post-graduate life I've been waiting for my whole life. No more than 48 hours before I had solidified my desire to become a Manhattanite did I find out that my job had been outsourced to Paris and that if I wanted to keep it, I'd have to move there. Thing is, I don't know French. And Paris is expensive. And they eat fucking snails. And... well, shit... I didn't want to move to fucking Paris. While I can still remain employed at my current job well into the new year, the fact that it was a ticking time bomb has sorta soured my current mental state. The positive of not having to give a good goddamn about my work performance doesn't offset the prospect of unemployment quite as much as Office Space or Fight Club might have you believe. Dreading the process of Monster.com and the goddamn Sunday New York Times I decided to hit up all of my former employers and see what they had brewing in the pipeline. Fortunately, one of them turned up a very good opoortunity. However, that opportunity just happens to be in Atlanta. Now don't get me wrong... I love Atlanta. I loved living there for six months and I know I'd enjoy living there for a longer period. I guess I'm just kinda torn about the fact that for the first time in my life I don't feel like leaving my friends. Or my family. Or my girlfriend. I've done that a million times before and everytime it's been a crazy adventure. Unfortunately, where I sit right now I'm just not in the mood for an adventure. And I guess that sorta goes against everything I've done for the past five years... moving to Boston... doing internships in Georgia and Ohio... but I had grown very ok with the fact that I would be living in New York for a few years, close to friends and family and almost indefinitely settling down near the place I grew up. Thrusting myself into uncertainty at this time in my life is a mix between exciting and frightening and I'm not 100% how I feel about it yet...

Jesus... It's just an interview and I'm acting like I have the job already. Excuse my poor blogging, I'm rusty. --

You see, the thing is, blogger is blocked from the PC's at my new(ish) job. I essentially wake up at 5:45am, commute my ass to The Port Authority by bus and don't arrive home until just before 8PM. By that time I'm trying so hard to squeeze all of my little "chores" into the course of a few hours just to hit a reasonable bed time. Blogging takes a back seat, is what I'm saying.

However, I am definitely not willing to let this little outlet go. It's meant too much to me over the years and I know for a fact that I can make it important to me again. I don't plan on living at home in Jersey and commuting into the city for too much longer. And once I can cut my commute down by a large amount, I'll be back in front of here kicking like back in the day, only a bit more mature-like. Ya dig?

So, until then.. check back every once in awhile. I do plan to try and hit in.circles sporadically until my full scale return. Who knows, maybe Paul will write something, too. Or Jimmy. *

The Sox are creaming the Yanks as I write. Hell has surely frozen over. --

MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES. REALLY. WRITING HERE HAS TAKEN A BACKSEAT TO JUST ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE IN MY LIFE RIGHT NOW AND IT'S GROWN TO BE A BIT OF A JOKE. HOWEVER, AFTER LOTS OF THINKING, I AM MAKING ONE (NOT QUITE LAST DITCH) EFFORT TO SAVE THIS HERE WEBSITE. WITH ANY LUCK, THERE WILL BE ABOUT THREE UPDATES A WEEK... BRIEF AND ENTERTAINING. SOMETHING I'VE NEVER QUITE SEEN ANYWHERE ELSE AND I'M EXCITED ABOUT IT.

THANKS FOR HANGING WITH ME. GIMME A FEW DAYS AND THINGS'LL BE SWELL. I PROMISE. --

CHRISTOPHER

You've got to sneak your blogs in when you can, folks. Even if that means at 6:54am, just 6 minutes before you need to be out the door and off to the bus station where you will inevitably be lulled back into a slumber by the darkness of the bus and the sweet hum that the gears make while navigating through Rt 46 / Rt 3 traffic only to wake up sweating and a little greasy at the Port Authority 10 minutes later than you needed to be. Sneak the blogs in kids, sneak 'em in. *

More later... it's time to roll. --

Fall. Football. Relaxation. Everything, yay.

Work is tough and the hours are killing me slowly. It certainly makes me miss playing ping-pong with jimmy on the daily and wish that I had used my downtime a bit better. But I think I'm learning how to balance out my newfound lack of time with precious care for my newfound free time. Read lots. Listen to good music. Enjoy friends and loved ones more than you've ever enjoyed them before. Savor their time and presence.

Sorry I don't write as much as I'd like to.. and believe me I'd like to, but I haven't quite figured out how to fit it into my schedule yet... but I'm working on it.

Also, I'm working on finishing my songs. Seeing Mitsuko (go. click. now) made me miss playing music. Jimmy said he would help me with my tunes. Maybe we can set aside one night a week to work on these songs. Maybe we could perform them. Or I can perform them if he's too busy. Maybe the band name could be either August De Meyer or The August De Meyers. Maybe it could be acoustic pop with keyboard and no drums. Or electronic drums, if we're so inclined. Maybe I could sing about the things I don't find the time to write about here. Maybe you can come see us and it'll be fun.

Fall. I love fall. --

You've got a new thing going!
And I can't go with that!
And the scars are showing!
From the memories gone bad!
And I say... go on! go on!

3:24am and the Ergs are still inspiring enough for me to accentuate their lyrics with exclamation points. Amen.*

New 250 gigger is installed, up and running. Old 80 gigger's been left on as a slave. WindowsXP is installed as the OS on the 250 gigger. WindowsME was left on the 80 gigger. I can boot to either.

I started installing all this shit at about 5pm tonight and I've only just finally gotten everything more or less back to normal on the PC front. I used to think I was good at this shit... but as the years have gone by I've considerably gotten stupider and stupider with it.

At any rate, iTunes seems to be functioning just splendidly... which means a little bit of anal MP3 organizing and rabid ripping of the CD collection will be commencing for a good two weeks until I get my sweaty little hands on my itty bitty Pod. Yay. --

Tired and hungover...

but just fine thanks to The Ergs! *

Going to pick up a new hard drive today... which is step #1 towards joining the ranks of all you white headphoned iPod sporting hipsters out there. Excellent. --

For as long as I've known Paul I've consistently offered up (usually misguided) musical advice to him. He is almost always kind enough to give a listen to, and weigh in on, whatever I'm recommending. In return, Paul generally points out books that I should be reading and video games that I probably should be playing. The whole system seems to work pretty well. Keeps us cultured, up to date, whatever.

In one rare instance of Paul laying some tunes on me, he offered up The Paper Chase around the release of their phenomenal sophomore album, Hide The Kitchen Knives. Whereas most music I stumble upon these days finds me dis-interested after a few weeks, The Paper Chase has again and again found itself on my playlists. My respect for this band has multiplied tenfold since I first found myself enamored with that shakey but disturbingly determined voice scream "YOU BETTER HIDE THOSE KITCHEN KNIVES!" out of my speakers two years ago.

I don't know why it took me so long to get myself a copy of their latest, God Bless Your Black Heart, but upon spinning it from front to back for the first time it's completely monopolized all of my listening time and playlist space. 90% an expanded Hide The Kitchen Knives concept, 5% Modest Mouse and 5% Connor Oberst, God Bless Your Black Heart is for anyone who likes their dementia sincere and honest or their heartbreak sickening and scary.

I listen to it more than the new Faint. More than the new Ted Leo. More than the new Interpol. Cure. Hives. Blah-blah. Blah-blah. Bands with visions and talent like The Paper Chase are an all-too-rare example of why music plays such a big part in my life.

So thanks, Paul. --

It's with caution that I admit to have been bitten by the Dan Brown bug. It started obviously enough, with The Da Vinci Code, and has moved forth to Angels* & Demons and then to Deception Point. I can only guess that the madness will end with Digital Fortress. Being the type of kid in high school that spent hours on the internet before it was cool for you to check out espn.com while at work, I'd previously stumbled upon countless websites about the Illuminati, Free Mason imagery on US Dollar Bills, etc. If you're a bit geeky, don't mind being caught on the subway with a paperback best seller, and have a few hours to kill (literally, you can plow through these puppies in hours) I highly recomment seeking out this shit. Your Dad's probably already bought it, so just borrow it from him or whatever.

Read it before Ron Howard casts Tom Hanks as Robert Langdon and ruins the whole damn thing. *

They sell shirts that have "I'm Rick James, Bitch" silkscreened along side an image of Mr. James on the Seaside Heights boardwalk. Last weekend, two days after the death of Signore James I saw a person walking along the beach that crossed out the "I'm" and replaced it with "I was" "I was Rick James, Bitch". Charming.

I might just be the only person in the United States that has not yet seen the David Chappelle skit that spawned that initial phrase. *

I'm employable, it turns out. Not only employable, but employable by multiple companies. When it rains it pours... and now I've been offered two wonderful positions with wonderful companies doing things that I know that I will enjoy. It's a wonderful problem to have... and once I make the final decision (it's 99.9% made), I'll let you hear about it... then the unemployed whining will end. Yay. --

* I'll have you know that the exact second that I began typing the word Angels, Ted Leo yelled the word "Angel" in song #2 off of his new album Shake The Sheets which I have not listened to enough yet to comment on.

Touche!

I wish I could play off my last post as a successful test of faith, but I cannot honestly do so. The truth is that I wanted my first blog back to be inspiring enough for me to stick to my word, but I just kinda froze up. Straight up writers block. For a few days I took a mental vacation, keeping me from blogging. Then after that I took a physical vacation to Seaside Heights, New Jersey. I'm happy to say that I have returned with 1/2 lb. of peanut butter fudge, a red fighting fish won from a boardwalk game that strangely resembles beer-poing that Marissa and I have named "rar", a wicked sunburn, and a newfound desire to write. I suppose that you can get any of those aformentioned items just about anywhere in the U.S., but I think those who are in the know understand that there is no better place to do so.

Fudge, fish, and sunburn aside, I state that Seaside Heights, NJ is the perfect catalyst to my rekindled interest in blogging becase the duration of the time I spent there had me asking the very same questions that I've found myself asking a lot since leaving Boston and moving back home. #1 - Who are these people? and #2 - What the fuck am I doing here? While I am still not far removed from the inherent craziness that comes with being a senior in college living in Boston I am sure as hell not ready to take up any kind of suburban residence and begin living the way that so many middle-aged white people do. The desire to hit the town, to get out and see people in different situations has been such a huge part of my life the past five years, and it's tough to be faced with the truth that it's not really possible in my current location. Yes, technically on paper I live in a rather large town that offers a fairly diverse set of people(s). I have great friends whom I enjoy spending time with more than they probably know. But the scale to which I have become accustomed to enjoying my time on this planet has been greatly scaled down.

So there's the backdrop for going forward with in.circles. Knowing what's behind me - knowing what I want in front of me - and this bizarre little time in between called 'right now' in which living as an NYC commuter in North Jersey has me asking myself questions #1 and #2 a lot. *

Due up, more on the Jersey Shore, the statistical chance of getting on a subway train with a raving lunatic, and how much more ass my fighting fish can kick than yours. Stay tuned. --

Chris

Ahem... excuse me.  It appears as if i've lost my voice.  I'm sure that my lack of regular blogging makes that fairly evident.  The infrequency, I can deal with.  However, looking back at the substance behind my scant blogging and being embarassed and sickened, I cannot deal with.

The lack of voice or substance or whatever you want to call it behing my words is due to a million things.  However, lately I've felt an urge to get back into the daily, or almost daily, saddle. So rather than can this whole project that I've worked on more less for five years now, I'm going to give it one more shot.  The blogs will be coming.  And hopefully they will be interesting.

Hope to see ya around more.  Thanks,

Chris.

Technically I suppose you can say I'm employed. Generally, employment consists of regular payment in a paper check or electronically dispersed sum of money. If you're lucky, employment will also consist of health care benefits. My current 'employment' consists of none of those things, short of a few bucks to cover the insanely expensive commute from Jersey to New York everyday. However, I am being paid in "learning". And "experience". I am also getting to "rub elbows" with some influential and important people. I guess the idea is that giving up the above stated generalities of employment will pay off sometime in the future with larger payments in either paper or electronic forms. Despite the exciting work in which I get to do, which I'm not quite ready to reveal up in ye olde blog, it's tough to be working pro bono when there have been multiple offers that allow for pay and benefits in the here and now. *

If you take a look at my blog entry dated October 20, 2003 you will find a pretty accurate and quite pissed-off description of the night I was robbed at knife point. Last week, just over nine months after the incident, I took the witness stand to testify against the four assholes that pulled knives on me and a friend in search of a few bucks. I spent one hour and 45 minutes on the stand. I was cross-examined by four sleezy defense lawyers that had prepared questions intended to confuse my memory of the night. Questions designed to paint a false picture of me wanting to face off with four huge scary looking dudes because I had quite a bit to drink. I think I held my own on the stand... and I'm pretty sure that the few places I slipped up due to the sleezy questioning will be fixed by the bare facts of the case... my 911 call and the police reports... order of events, etc. I don't like to try to knock anyone trying to make a living... and I am sure there are lots of defense lawyers that are truly looking for justice in the world. But I don't know how these four particular people can be OK enough with themselves at day's end to have a decent night's rest. --

Tonight a handful of us will be heading up to the Catskills for a camping weekend and i'm pretty psyched about the whole thing. Of course, when your life consists of balancing time between Final Fantasy Tactics Advance and a pirated copy of Rez for the Dreamcast, anything that involes being outside of these bedroom walls warrants "psychedness". So Boo-ya. Bring on the mosquitos, campfires, and creepy New York state hicks. *

I've put together a handful of mix CD's to listen to on the trip. I've put one together that consists of mostly new music and a few old favorites to round out the collection... here's the tracklisting:

01. Wilco - At Least That's What You Said
02. Interpol - Slow Hands
03. Clinic - Country Mile
04. Mike Park - On That Stage
05. Single Frame Ashtray - The Slip
06. Mirah - Look Up!
07. Secret Machines - Light's On
08. Ramones - Do You Wanna Dance?
09. The Misfits - Bullet
10. Ramones - Needles and Pins
11. The Misfits - Death Comes Ripping
12. Two Lone Swordsmen - Sick When We Kiss
13. Clinic - wdyyb
14. Apollo Sunshine - Blood is Wood
15. Interpol - Not Even Jail
16. Single Frame - Floral Design in a Straight Line
17. The Cure - Before Three
18. Detachment Kit - Music for Strobelights
19. Leonard Cohen - Famous Blue Raincoat

Enjoy your weekend. Happy Summer. --

Go and listen fuckwads. --